I tend to overdo just about everything. I overcommit, I say yes when I really should say no, and I cannot do something without giving it my all. There are exceptions, of course. A quick once over cleaning in the boys' bathroom is sufficient. They will leave gobs of toothpaste on the counter and remnants of poor aim soon enough. While we're on cleaning, I am also pretty half-hearted about hanging up worn clothes, but, really, there isn't much else that I don't do 100%.
How can I be so intently committed to movement but not nearly as committed to doing the things that breathe life into my soul? What I'm really asking is this: How can I be so intently committed to serving God but not nearly as committed to enjoying God?
I suppose I talk myself out of it because I don't want to admit I'm weak or tell myself I'll do it later. That's just ridiculous: I'll enjoy God later. I'll enjoy the gifts God has given me later. I'll enjoy my husband later. I'll enjoy my children later.
Yesterday morning, I was pretty sure God was calling me to rest. Not to write, not to respond to emails, not to be with people, not to have a to-do list, nothing. But I fought it. I spent a restless few minutes putting in a load of laundry and wandering around the house looking for something urgent to do. I tried to check my email, but the internet connection wouldn't work. So I turned to my mini-internet, my smartphone. But I couldn't find it. I could, however, sense God laughing and calling me to Him. See? You need rest and I will make you receive it. Just be with Me. Take a walk. Stick your face in the sunshine. Let Me give you what you need today.
So I did.
I tried to take a walk but the frigid wind had me retreating inside quickly.
Instead I stood in the kitchen window, closed my eyes, and let the sun wash over me, the sun that I've barely seen in the past few weeks. And I thought about what a gift a sunny day is. I thought about God and how He gives good gifts.
Then I read. I read something that touched my heart so deeply that I cried weary, hopeful tears. I felt relief and grace mingling inside. And I felt compelled to pray and think about the hope I have in God.
Then I slept. Mid-morning naps feel naughty and delicious and, for me, are a way for me to take a bold stand against my need to do something productive rather than just be and receive and rest. I awoke from my naughty and delicious nap with a smile on my face and a renewed sense of life.
Why am I not more committed to these times of rest? Why do I not listen when the Spirit's quiet whisper asks me to stop doing so I can reflect on my "being" in Christ? When I rest, I notice so much more: the cherry blossom tree heralding the coming of spring, the way my children's fingers look when they grasp mine, what God is doing deep down in my soul.
When I rest, I am not being productive in the human sense. But I am doing something vitally important--I am enjoying God!
Are you enjoying God or are you just surviving life right now? How is God calling you to rest?